


The Blessing of Proserpina

by Lizardbeth



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Babies, F/M, Ficathon, New Caprica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-14
Updated: 2011-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-26 02:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On New Caprica, Kara and Sam's life together takes a different turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Pyramid of Dreams Ficathon on Livejournal, for a baby!Fic prompt. So yes, this is baby!Fic, but it's more how that one change makes changes to everything else, including the Occupation.

They faced each other in the middle of their tent, but across a wide gulf that had suddenly sprung between them in the last week. Sam didn't understand what had happened to change things so drastically, and he'd been rebuffed each time he'd tried to figure it out.

After tonight he wasn't sure he wanted to. Anger curdled in his chest, deep and dark, and he knew she'd finally pushed him close to his breaking point.

"Did you have to do it in front of the whole bar? Hanging on Hotdog of all frakking people?" Sam demanded in a low hiss. "In my face? Making me look like a fool?"

"You manage that all on your own," Kara retorted.

"Yeah, I guess I do. I married you, didn't I? Taking the Commander's leftovers," he sneered, and she jerked back, eyes wide with surprise and guilt. Did she think he didn't know? Or was she surprised she'd pushed him far enough to strike back?

And then she tried to punch him in the face.

Sam caught her wrist. "No, baby, you don't get to hit me."

Her mood turned, mercurial as lightning, from anger to mischief. "What about something else then? We could forget this night ever happened… " She pushed against him, her free hand sliding down the front of his pants.

"What the frak is wrong with you?" Sam demanded, twisting away and staring at her, wondering when the hell Kara had turned into a stranger. And worse, finding he was tired of trying to figure it out. "You know what? Forget it," he said shortly. "You've been a frakking nutcase for a week and I'm sick of it. You win; I'm going." He held up both hands in surrender. "When you're interested in being married again, come find me. In the meantime, I'm going to live at the bar."

He headed for the flap, angry and frustrated and tired of the whole mess.

Her voice was so soft and it was such a change from her previous tone that he almost thought it was coming from the tent next door.

"I'm pregnant."

He froze and slowly turned back around, his breath catching on a sudden lump in his chest. "What?"

Her voice grew a little harder and she lifted her chin. "You heard me."

He felt blindsided, and took a moment to find his voice. "I thought … that was impossible."

"Apparently not."

His mouth worked, before he found the next question. "And… and it's mine?" he asked.

"Of course it's yours!" she snapped, as if outraged that he could doubt it.

But he knew better and said nothing, just kept watching her, until she slowly nodded. Her voice went calm. "Yes. It's yours -- there wasn't anyone else, Sam. I know what you think, but that's all that happened. Never anything more. It was… stupid. Not that it matters, I guess."

He stared at her incredulous. It didn't matter if he was the father or not? "Why's that?"

"I'm not keeping it," she declared. "I'm not a mother, I don't want kids. I've never wanted kids. So I'm gonna get rid of it."

It was as if she'd shown him a bright light and then snuffed it out. Or let him have air and then shoved him back underwater again. All he could say was, "Oh."

"That's it?" she asked. "That's all you're gonna say?"

As neutrally as he could manage, he asked, "What do you want me to say?"

"I -- don't know. I thought you'd object."

He shrugged tightly. "Sounds like you already made up your mind."

"Well, yeah. It was an accident. Shouldn't have happened."

"I --" he wanted to protest, wanted her to reconsider, imagined a child with her golden hair and bright smile, and discovered in that moment exactly how much he wanted to see it happen. Then he felt ill and the walls seemed to close in. He swallowed and managed to push out, "I see."

"So you're okay with an abortion?" she persisted.

He wanted to yell out no and shake her and storm out, but he couldn't do any of those things. "Does it matter what I think?" he demanded, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

She glanced at him, then away, before asking, "Are you going to be angry with me?"

That was too much. "I don't know! For gods' sakes, Kara, you just laid this on me, I don't know **how** I feel about it." He folded his arms. "If you're going to get rid of it, I don't know why you told me in the first place."

"Because I'm not sure!" she blurted.

"You're not?" That admission was as surprising as the news was, though he felt a tentative flare of hope rekindle at her words. He took a slow, deliberate breath, knowing if he said something wrong, there was more at stake here than just the possible child. He had to keep calm. "Why not?"

"It's illegal," she said. "Not that it would stop me, I think Cottle would help anyway, he knows my records, but… then I keep thinking …" Her eyes dropped down to the stack of paintings and her voice lowered with it, as her hands went around herself. "You and me and the cabin… we said we wanted normal. To build a life. Could we do that if we have this hanging between us?"

He knew what he should say -- he should reassure her that it didn't matter, and that he didn't care. But… he did care. It did matter. Now that he knew, it wasn't something he could forget about.

But she went on before he could speak. "But how can I even think about a kid? It's stupid. Me as a mother? Who the frak thinks that's a good idea? I can't do it. I don't know how. I practically hit you just now, I'd be worse than my own mother was to me… I can't."

"Kara… I --" he started and then reconsidered his words, trying to be careful. "Look, all I can tell you is what I think, and you can take what you want from it. Your mother was wrong. What she did to you was wrong, but that doesn't doom you to doing it, too."

"What the hell do you know about it?" she demanded, defensive again. "You, with the perfect life before the attacks?"

He looked at her, eyebrows up. "Do you think being an orphan on Picon was all rainbows and ponies? My foster parents didn't give a shit about me, only the check; that's why I ran to the pyramid court as often as I could. I swore when I left that place I wouldn't be like them: I would never hit anyone. Not you, and never a child. I haven't and I won't."

She looked down blankly at her stack of canvasses. "But … what if I can't do that? I'm such a frak up, I don't know if I can… "

Understanding now that she was afraid, he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. "You are Kara Thrace. You can do whatever the frak you decide to do."

She shook her head against his chest. "I can't - I'd be a terrible mother-- and that kid'll grow up to hate me…"

"No. No, Kara, you don't see what I do." He tilted her chin up to face him. "You care deeply, I know even if you can't say the words sometimes -- you have such love you can give to your own child... And you won't be alone, I promise."

She swallowed hard and her hands were tight on his back. "Are you sure, absolutely sure, that you won't go?" she whispered. "I want to do this, but I can't do it on my own. I can't -- I'll frak it up --"

"Hey." He framed her face in both hands so she couldn't look away and so she could see his eyes. "I promised forever. I meant it. As long as you want me, no matter what."

"You are so ridiculous," she protested, eyes suddenly liquid and she tried to smile, but it turned out all crumpled, "and sappy and absurd."

"That's why you love me," he murmured, grinning smugly

"No, I love you cuz you're hot and good in the sack," she returned with a breathless laugh.

"It occurs to me that's what got us in trouble in the first place," he retorted as his hands fell to skim her waist and hips.

She laughed and yanked him closer, into her. "Can't get into any more trouble, right?"

* * *

The next day, after thinking about it and realizing she had never actually said what she had decided to do or whether she had changed her mind, when they were back home in the tent, Sam knew what he had to do. He took her hands and inhaled a deep breath. "Okay, look, you took me by surprise yesterday, but I want you to know that either way, I'm with you, okay? Yes, I would adore a baby, but I also love you. And I don't want you to do anything that you feel forced into doing, because I know you'll resent it. So if you need to do this --"

"You need to shut up," her mouth came down over his, and he let her avoid the issue for a little while, but then wrenched free to object.

"Kara -- "

"We're gonna do it," she declared, looking into his eyes, and her own were resolute.

His heart suddenly seemed tight and full, and he couldn't breathe. He seized her shoulders and looked into her eyes to see if it was a joke. "Seriously?"

"I mean it," she confirmed. "We're going to be parents, and we will not frak it up."

"No, we won't," he promised For an instant, she looked queasy and uncertain, but then he grinned. He threw his arms around her, hugged her tightly, and kissed her hair and her cheek. "We're going to be parents!" And he picked her up and staggered around, while she laughed at him.

* * *

Not that it was always like that, but Sam held onto his patience, knowing no matter how hard she pushed, it was fear driving her. The one thing he couldn't do was let her push him into something rash and prove her fear founded. She was alternately sick and hungry and exhausted, she swore at him and picked fights, and he prayed it would pass.

Kara didn't want to tell anyone, and Sam went along with it, knowing it was her way of trying to keep her options open. So they kept it secret for a while, though Barolay guessed when they both stopped drinking. After Kara officially passed her first trimester and started to feel better, she was horribly prickly for two days, but on the other side, she snuggled up to him in bed, sighed, and said, "It's done, isn't it? This is gonna happen."

The words were out of nowhere, but he knew exactly what she was talking about. He smoothed her hair, which was growing out long and soft. "Yes. Now we get ready."

Her fingers feathered down his chest. "You know why I can do this?" she murmured. "Because I know even if I freak out with the kid, or if I do something wrong, you'll be a great dad. Just... promise me, if you leave me, take the kid, too."

He turned to look at her, about to protest that he'd never do that, but the words died on his lips. "You won't do that, Kara. But yes, if … something happens, if everything gets all frakked up, I won't be your father. If you turn into an unbearable harpy, the kid comes with me. Does that help?"

"Actually, it does." She said nothing more, but after that, seemed a little more relaxed about the baby. And she finally decided, to his surprise, that it was time to announce it.

There was a large group gathered one evening. They were supposed to be celebrating the first successful harvest, but since no one there had eaten any of it, it turned into drinking. The Tighs were visiting, showing everyone how it was done, but when the colonel tried to push a cup on Kara, not understanding her refusal, she stood, dragging Sam by the hand to stand next to her.

"No, Colonel, I'm not drinking," she announced loudly. "Not tonight, not tomorrow, and not for six more months. Which, Lords of Kobol, sounds like a frakking eternity, but the Doc said I shouldn't. Because it could hurt the baby."

Then she glared at everyone, daring them to make something of it. There was a moment of stunned silence as the group figured out what to say.

"A baby?" Ellen exclaimed in surprised delight. "Kara! I'm so happy for you! For both of you!" She bounced to her feet to give Kara a hug, which Kara accepted somewhat warily, and then Ellen hugged Sam, too. Impending baby or not, she still managed to put a hand on his backside before she pulled back.

Barolay raised her cup. "Here's to the future pyramid champ!"

"And Viper pilot!" Kat added, clicking hers against Barolay's.

"And all-around pain in the ass!" Saul said, sounding grumpy, until he added, "Well done, Starbuck. You did it right."

"Blessings of all the Lords of Kobol on all three of you," Nora added.

They all drank to it, even though Kara grimaced at the tea. "This stuff sucks," she muttered but tossed it down.

Sam drank his, basking in the warmth of friends and Kara at his side.

* * *

Time marched on, occasionally seeming to creep past, but also blasting past in a blur of daily details of work and settlement.

Kara started to show her pregnancy, and though she complained about her clothes, he liked to touch the swell, hoping he could feel the baby move.

The weather changed, turning colder and miserably wet with a persistent drizzle that left everything damp. Half of the town picked up a virus, which spread like wildfire. Kara remained ridiculously healthy, but Sam caught a virulent version that didn't pass as quickly.

He was asleep when the nightmare started, but when a hand shook him awake, he realized the nightmare was actually true.

"C'mon, get up," Jean pulled at him.

"What's going on?" he demanded and coughed.

"Cylons," she explained shortly. "Frakkers found us. They're everywhere. One of them stopped me in the street looking for you. I lied, said you'd been on _Galactica_ , but they're gonna find this place any second. Let's go."

His head was swimming, and though he wanted to ask more questions, he couldn't think of any.

She helped him to his feet, grabbing his shoulder when he swayed dizzily. He felt like he was freezing and grabbed his jacket off the bed, even as Jean pushed him to the back wall of the tent. "Hurry, Sam."

"What about Kara?" he asked.

"Tyrol's with her. She'll be okay. She knows not to come back here." She lifted the overlapping canvas aside and peered out into the alley behind the tents. "C'mon, let's go."

She pushed him out, and he jumped down the little way from the platform to the ground. He meant to land easily, but his knees kept bending, slamming him into the dirt. The impact jarred something in his chest and he coughed hard enough to make his eyes water,ribs burning .

He felt Jean's hand on his shoulder, holding him steady, and felt the tension in her fingers as she gripped him tightly. "Come on, Sam."

Staggering to his feet with her help, he followed her. At first not tripping on the tent ropes took all his concentration, but eventually he realized that Jean seemed to have a direction in mind. "Where are we going?"

"Tyrol's. He said to meet there."

He was glad Jean knew where they were and where they were going, because he completely lost track. The tents all looked the same and twice they had to hide in some random tent as Centurions marched down the main street. He heard gunfire, but not as much as he would've expected for toasters swarming the place. There was a lot of distant screaming and announcements over the PA.

They came to a place where they had to cross the main avenue.

It was horrifying. There was a squadron of Centurions, all bright chrome, escorting a group of Sixes and Fours and one Two.

His hand fell to his thigh where he'd kept his pistol on Caprica, but this frakking place he had no weapon. Frak. He leaned back against the canvas and the pole behind it, trying to breathe without coughing even though his entire insides felt pinched.

The toasters passed out of sight, heading toward the ships, and Jean peeked again. "Okay, let's go. Put your hood up." When he didn't move to do it fast enough, she did it for him and put the soft hood of his sweatshirt over his head and lifted the collar of his jacket. "It's just like avoiding press after that loss to Aerilon."

He wanted to laugh at that, but breathing was hard enough. He followed her across the street, keeping his head down, and they hurried, trying not to be noticed or identified by anyone.

The ground wasn't staying level, but sort of wobbling and smearing, turning dark on the edges. Which was an oddly fascinating thing, but he didn't have long to see it because Jean jerked his sleeve. "Sam, don't pass out on me."

"I … don't feel good," he told her, pressing his free hand to his ribs trying to keep them still.

"I know, just a little farther," she urged and pulled his arm across her shoulders.

Cally was waiting there for them, and immediately ushered them in, lowering the flap. "Hurry."

But he was confused; this wasn't the Tyrols' tent. This one was barely furnished with a rug over the platform, one small table, and chairs. But he didn't have time to figure out a question.

Cally frowned at Sam in concern, clutching her baby to her. "You okay?"

"No, he's sick. Now what?" Jean demanded of Tyrol, who seemed to suddenly appear next to Cally.

Tyrol said, "Toasters have a list, and Anders and Starbuck are both on it. And it's not to give them awards. So we hide you."

"Hide where?" Jean asked. "Here?"

"Below," he answered with a glance down at the carpet under their feet. Then he bent, pulled it back to reveal the wooden platform of the tent. He lifted at the boards. Some of them came up, and an opening appeared. "Remember these, Sam?"

Sam peered down. It looked dim but not black. Charlie Conner's son had fallen into a hole by the river, and accidentally discovered that the entire camp was built on top of a system of caves and passages. Tyrol had asked Sam to help map it, which he hadn't finished when he'd gotten sick.

"Sam?" Kara's familiar voice called up. "Come down. Hurry."

He started down the ladder, and Jean called down to her, "Watch him, he's not steady."

When he reached the ground and turned, Kara's arms were there. He held her tightly, resting his head on hers as he tried to catch his breath without another coughing fit. "Oh gods."

"There's a couple blankets, and here's more light," Tyrol tossed down light sticks. "We'll bring food later."

Then he put the boards back that made the trap door, and it was immediately dark overhead.

There was still light in the cave from a lantern on the small table on which Sam had been drawing his map of the cave system a few weeks ago.

"There's water, blankets, a table, all the comforts of home," Kara said, with a dry laugh, drawing back and looking concerned. She put a hand to his forehead. "You're burning up. Take off your coat and lie down. I'll get some water."

He watched her instead of taking off his jacket. Her stomach was distinctly rounded now, and looked even more so in the shadow she cast against the wall. _Baby… Gods, baby and now the Cylons were here…_

She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Sam. Stay with me. Drink." He took the metal cup and drank, then she took off his jacket, and pushed him gently toward the blankets. "Come on. Up there or down here, you need rest."

In the blankets, he coughed until the pain in his ribs was like a spike in his chest and he was covered with sweat. After the fit passed, and curled up and feeling weak as a newborn kitten, his breaths wheezed and there were black spots across his vision that wouldn't clear.

Kara wiped his face with a damp cloth, biting her lip. "You're going to be okay," she told him fiercely. "You're going to get better, Sam." She grabbed his hand and laid it on her rounded belly. "Not going through this alone, you frakker. "

"No, not alone," he promised hoarsely. He fell asleep, fingers gently rubbing at her taut skin and imagining the small life curled up inside.

* * *

He stirred to the sound of Kara's voice, talking in a sharp undertone. "No, that's not good enough. We can't stay stuck down here."

"They're looking for you, Starbuck," Tyrol insisted. "And him. Better to be safe than sorry, right? But if you want to leave, nobody's keeping you here."

Kara let out an aggravated sound that meant she hated that but couldn't argue with his point. "And if they find their way down here?" she demanded

"Then you're frakked," he answered. "Look, I don't know. Hopefully, if they don't find you two, they'll believe you were up on _Galactica_ when they left and stop looking."

"What about Roslin?" Kara asked. "Shouldn't she be down here, too?"

"They're not looking for her. And she wouldn't come."

"Frak."

Sam opened his eyes and saw Tyrol by the table, which was now heaped with supplies, including some of their things from their tent.

"I figured you were bored, so I brought you a wireless," Tyrol told her. "It's broken, but there's some parts. Let me know if you need anything else. The Old Man's coming back, and we're gonna have to be able to talk to him."

He started up the ladder and Kara said, "Thanks, Chief."

He nodded at her, freed a hand to wave to Sam when he saw Sam was awake, and disappeared above.

Kara knelt by his bed. "Hey, how're you feeling?"

"A little better," he answered. He was wise enough at this point to be unsure if he was actually better though, since he always felt fine after waking up. He also knew better than to try sitting up right away and ruin it. "I see Galen brought you a toy to keep you out of trouble."

She made a face at him. "Very funny. He brought some more food and some other things I haven't gone through." She turned to regard the pile of stuff with a grumpy face. "Apparently, he's preparing us for hiding down here for a while."

He grabbed her hand. "We hide until they stop looking. Or they're gone. I don't know what they'd do with you, considering their creepy fascination with babies." He shuddered. Imagining Kara in their hands again was bad enough, but with a baby, it was worse.

"But they can't know about that, so why me?" she asked with a frown. "You, I understand, they know your name from Caprica, and they know you'll resist. But I'm no more likely to resist than any other member of the Fleet that's down here."

"Maybe it's my fault," he suggested after a moment. "On Caprica, some of them saw I have your tag. They know you came back for me."

Instead of being annoyed by the fact that he'd drawn their attention to her, she smiled and leaned down, one hand on his chest cupping her tag. "They know if they take you, they'll have to take me, too, because otherwise I would never stop until I got you back," she murmured.

She didn't say things like that very often, and he took it for the gift it was, absorbing the acknowledgment of her feelings deep inside where it seemed to chase away the congestion and pain, leaving a warmth behind. "Likewise," he promised, lifting the hand in his to his mouth to kiss her fingers. "Every stone, every wall. I got to be pretty good at blowing shit up."

She smiled, brushed his lips with a finger, and taunted, "Not bad for a pyramid player."

He figured that was as much mushy stuff as he could expect for the day, and retorted, "You're just saying that 'cause there's no court down here so I can't kick your ass."

"As if you could," she snorted.

"Yeah, not today," he agreed and started to sit up. She pulled, and then had to hold him when he coughed. When the fit passed and he wiped his mouth, he muttered wearily, "Gods, so sick of being sick."

She held the water for him. "It'll pass, just rest. Not as if we have a busy schedule down here."

It sounded like a good idea to lean back again and pass out, but he couldn't yet. "Gotta use the head. What are we doing about that?"

"This way." She helped him up and led him over to a crack in the floor at the back, near the back exit.

There were two entrances to this main cavern -- a passage that eventually wound its way to the exit near the river, and one that went deeper back and eventually dead-ended in a pile of rock. There were numerous cracks in the walls, leading to more tunnels, but they were too narrow for an adult to pass, leaving a self-contained section underground. The crack in the floor led to the underground river that had originally flowed through where they were, before dropping down a level in the limestone. The water down there was heavily mineralized, and though he suspected there might be very pretty caves somewhere, for now he was fine with using it as a sewer since it joined a bigger river and flowed to the sea.

He was dizzy and exhausted when he got back to his blankets. Just breathing seemed to take all his strength as he sat there, too tired to even lie down.

"Hey," Kara murmured, kneeling beside him. "Water?"

He opened his eyes again to see her worried face. Instead of grabbing the water cup, he held up a hand to her face, tracing her cheek with his fingers. "I'm not gonna die on you."

"Promise?" she asked softly.

"Can't promise forever," he answered. "Everybody dies, so one of us is gonna have to go first. But not now, not this frakking crap in my lungs. That much I promise."

"Holding you to that, Sam," she murmured and leaned forward to kiss him. She wanted more, and so did he, but when her hands fell on his shoulders, they felt like ice on his superheated skin and she pulled back. "Lords of Kobol, you're an oven. Water," she said with new resolution.

Then Kara forced him into eating some rations she'd mashed up with water into a thin gruel, which was even more disgusting than when the food was dry. "Eat it. You need food."

He held it away from him. "It looks like vomit."

"Then it'll look the same if it comes back up. Eat it."

"You delight in torturing me," he muttered, but he drank it. It really was vile, and it took effort to keep it down.

"I'm practicing for the baby," she retorted. "Since I'll apparently have two in a few months."

He wanted to respond, but another coughing fit ripped at him and his head was swimming when he curled up in the blankets, chills rippling across his skin. He tried to pull a blanket over his bare arms, but Kara stopped him.

"Cold," he objected.

She held a hand to his forehead, and shook her head. "I think your fever's spiked again from moving around. Close your eyes and sleep, dumbass."

"Thirsty," he requested, but when she lifted his head to give him more water, his vision tunneled and went black.

* * *

Days passed in a vague blur of feverish coughing and broken sleep. Kara hovered - sometimes he didn't understand what she was saying, but the bossy tone of voice made him do things he didn't want to do.

Once, he woke to find her sound asleep next to him. Her face, even in sleep, was anxious and strained and he reached a hand to her hair, wishing he could take all this away. It wasn't fair; it was enough that she had to deal with being pregnant, not the fear that he was dying. He wanted so much to tell her he was going to be fine, but his whole body ached, his head hurt, and he couldn't find enough air to tell her anything at all.

Finally, his fever broke and he was suddenly able to breathe again. The illness had left him still weak and coughing, but he knew he was on the tail-end of the battle at last.

The anxiety left Kara's face, and she started teasing him again.

He woke to Kara's irritated voice talking to someone else. Or at least he hoped it was someone else.

"I have to get out of here. It's been weeks and I've already been through the whole place three times, and built a wireless, and -- "

"Starbuck," snapped Tigh's voice in return, and that was surprising enough that Sam opened his eyes to check that, in fact, Colonel Tigh was in the cave with them. "What the frak do you want me to do about that?"

"I want to go to the surface," she declared.

Alarmed, Sam sat up, but Tigh had her impatience well in hand and he stated rather casually, "One of the toasters is living in your tent."

She didn't find a response for a moment. Sam found himself just as shocked. "What?" she asked. "Our tent?"

"One of the Leobens. Or hell, all of them take turns, what the frak do I know? And they roam town asking after you. I know they've gotten killed at least twice and they still wander around, looking for you."

"That frakker from the ship," she realized and put a hand on her stomach like she felt nauseous. "Oh, gods."

Tigh added, "And that's in addition to the flyers offering a reward for Anders." He glanced over, saw Sam was upright, and called to him, "You're worth an apartment in Toaster Central. So keep your frakkin' head down."

"Frak, we can't stay down here forever!" Kara objected and pitched a bolt at the wall.

"You better stay for now," he advised. "Toasters don't seem to know about the tunnels, so it's the best place to hide."

Sam pushed himself to his feet, coughing only a little, as he went to the table to join them. "Colonel."

"You look better," Tigh said, giving him a close scrutiny.

"Yeah, pretty sure I'll live now."

"Good. I aim to make this resistance headquarters." He slapped some papers down on their table. "This is all the intel we've got. If we're gonna chase the frakkers off this planet, we're gonna have to make the price high. So I want you two to start thinking. Planning. Keep checking the wireless. I know the Old Man will contact us. And …just in case." He put down a bag that clinked metallically, and Kara opened it, taking out a sidearm. "Guns," he answered. "Ammo. If they breach the tunnels, no point in you two being sitting ducks."

She checked one of the clips and her smile was wider than Sam had seen it for a while. "Thanks."

Tigh frowned down at her belly. "You want me to get Doc Cottle down here to check you out? You look about ready to pop."

"Gods, if only that was true," she muttered. "At least another month. Maybe I should meet him up top somewhere, since I don't think it's safe to bring him down here. He can't talk about what he doesn't know."

Sam was relieved she was willing to see the doctor, since that had been such a point of argument early on, but he didn't like the idea of her going topside with creepy stalker Cylons looking for her. But he held his tongue, knowing she had to get out, at least for a little while. They were both on top of each other in the cave, and especially now that he wasn't practically dying, she needed a break.

Tigh nodded, after flicking a glance at Sam. "I'll tell Cally to set it up with him. Disguise yourself and go during the day - at night curfew's tough and Centurions are out in force. No need to risk it."

"Right."

"Does Ellen know?" Sam asked.

Tigh looked surprised by the question. "Of course not," he said, as if that was obvious. "Not about you two. We're keeping it very quiet. Take care of yourself, Starbuck." Then he shook his head, wry smile tugging at his lips as he glanced at her belly. "Never thought I'd see the day."

He took his leave through the trap door, and closed it carefully behind him.

Kara checked all the guns and said, sounding as if she were only half-joking, "Don't know if he should've brought guns when I'm feeling cranky and mad at you."

He eyed the firearms and ammunition now spread out on the table and hoped he was joking when he agreed, "Yeah, this seems like a very bad idea…"

"You can make it up to me," she offered and swept her long hair over one shoulder, presenting her back. He rubbed her shoulders and then coaxed her to lie on her side, so he could rub her back.

Kissing her shoulder, he slipped one hand to cradle the front of her belly, "You are so beautiful," he murmured.

She turned her head to find his mouth, and murmured back, "If I ever say in all this that I hate you, don't believe me."

* * *

Kara took a sidearm, but Sam figured her best defense was her disguise. She was wearing a long dress and coat, to make her look more bulky and hide her obvious shape. They didn't know if the Cylons knew yet that she was pregnant, but humans did, so it was possible the toasters knew, too. Plus she wore her hair long and made it dark with dirt, and a scarf over her head like a Gemonese.

Sam walked her to the far end of the tunnel system, glad he was back to finding his strength, too. The tunnel slanted up, and sunlight streamed onto the broken rock and piled dirt of what had been the roof of the cavern. Tree roots hung like thick spider webs from the edges of the opening, offering handholds at the top of the debris.

"Don't know which way I'll come back," she said. "So don't wait here."

"Be careful." He kissed her, suddenly afraid that if he let her go, he wouldn't see her again. He had to force himself to let go of her hand, and couldn't stir from the spot as she climbed awkwardly up the slope to the narrow tunnel entrance.

For a moment, the sunlight dimmed as she blocked it, and then she was gone.

A few minutes of tense waiting for any noise of discovery or gun fire followed, but when none came, he withdrew into the tunnels that seemed suddenly much darker and colder without her.

He waited in the central cavern, trying to distract himself with the maps of toaster activity, but starting at every tiny scraping sound up above.

Finally he heard the more definitive noise of someone walking above and moving the rug, then the removal of the boards. Sam turned down the light and moved behind an outcropping at the back passage, gun in hand, knowing that just because he expected Kara back it was entirely possible that someone else was coming first.

But then he heard a hiss, "Hey, are you here?"

Grateful, he put the gun into his thigh holster and moved forward to help Kara climb down the ladder.

He looked up into Tyrol's face, bending over the trap door. "Here, more fuel for the cook stove," Tyrol handed it down to him and a bag. "Food, a little tea. And a friend of Cally's knitted this for Nicky, but it's already too small."

Sam took the hat, struck for a moment by how small it was. "Tell her thanks, Galen."

Tyrol replaced the door and was gone, as Kara turned the lamp up.

"So?" Sam asked. "How did it go?"

She shrugged. "Fine."

"Kara. How did it go?" he demanded impatiently. "Did anyone recognize you? Did you get there safely? Did you see anyone? Come on, I haven't seen the sun in six weeks either."

She laughed and came over to kiss him. "Okay, okay. But first the good news: Cottle says I'm perfectly healthy. He didn't want to know where I'd been all this time, but he did some tests and an ultrasound. And he's pretty sure the baby's a girl."

She dropped that as if it was some random tidbit of information, not changing her tone at all, then she watched him, grinning as he seized her hands with excitement. "A girl? Really? That's... fantastic."

"Odds were pretty good it'd be one or the other," she reminded him, teasing.

"Hush, you. Now we only have to pick one name. Good thing we have time. So, Cottle mention when the happy day might come?"

"Another month at least, probably more likely two." Then she glanced around the cave glumly. "I doubt the Cylons will be gone by then. How long are we going to have to stay down here? I feel... Sam, we're not fighting back."

"We are," he reassured her. "We're planning, and helping."

"That's not the same," she complained.

"No, it's not," he agreed. He leaned against the work table where they had drawings of various structures and the camp and other papers of the resistance which they kept safe down here. "And I'd love to be shooting them, too. But someone has to collect intel and plan, and make ammo. That's what we do. Besides, we're targets; that makes being up top dangerous for other people, not just us."

"It's dangerous anyway! Sam, I heard -- " she shook her head, distressed. "Cylons shoot people dead if they're found with weapons on the spot. Some of them disappear and nobody sees them again. It's awful."

"Which is why it's better to be down here and not one of them in detention," he told her.

She stalked away, angry at him like he wasn't getting it. "Why do we get to be safe when nobody up there is?" She threw a hand up, pointing to the ceiling. "Other women with babies, other families -- we get to stay down here and paint in safety while they're getting shot at."

He let out a sigh. "We're not that safe, Kara. This is like Delphi Union -- we knew the toasters could stumble on it any moment. And yes, you're right, we could let other people come down here, too. I don't have a problem with letting Jean or Roslin or someone like that who gets in trouble hide with us. But," he paused. It wasn't easy to say, even though he knew it was the truth. "We can't fill these tunnels with people. It'll never stay a secret --It'll get too noisy, too hard to supply, and the Cylons will find out."

She let out a frustrated sound, but couldn't argue. "We need to do more to fight back."

"Okay. I could go with Barolay and Hillard when they plant the charges at the landing field," he suggested. He would do it, too, if she agreed -- she wasn't the only one who wanted fresh air -- but he didn't think it would happen.

It didn't. She faced him, startled and appalled. "What? No! Are you nuts?"

"I'm agreeing with you. We should fight back more, and not sit around in safety," he repeated her words back to her. "So I'll go--"

"The Cylons want your head on a plate!" she interrupted fiercely. "Absolutely not!" He waited, saying nothing, until she narrowed her eyes at him and folded her arms. "Frak you."

He spread his hands in quasi-apology. "I don't enjoy being stuck down here either, you know. I'd much rather be blowing the frakkers away. But I would never forgive myself if my impatience led to them finding this place and you getting dragged off."

"We can't stay down here forever, Sam. I can't."

"I know, me neither," he agreed with a sigh. "But at least until the baby's born and you're a little more mobile, and hopefully we drop off their lidar, when the toasters have the insurgency on their minds. Maybe we'll get lucky and the counter-attacks will make them give up and leave us alone."

She snorted. "We're not going to be that lucky."

"No, but as long as we're a little bit lucky, I'll take it."

* * *

Kara was painting, and Sam was sitting at the table, measuring gun powder into shotgun shells for the resistance, when they both froze at the sound of someone moving around above the trap door.

In silence, they both stood. Kara grabbed a sidearm off the table beside her paint box, and Sam, who kept his holster on nearly all the time after some hard-earned lessons on Caprica, put a hand on his gun. They both moved behind the rock outcropping, waiting as the trap door opened.

At first there was no sound, then Tyrol's voice calling softly, "It's me."

"What's the news?" Kara asked, heading back into the light to meet Tyrol as he slid down the ladder. His face didn't encourage Sam to let go of the gun, at all -- Tyrol looked very worried, even as he handed a bag of supplies to Sam.

"We've got a problem," he announced. "They grabbed the colonel."

"Oh, hell," Kara said in dismay.

"They took him to detention," Tyrol shook his head. "There's no way we can get to him."

"He can blow everything," Kara realized, and looked around their cave which had suddenly turned into anything but a haven.

"He won't tell," Tyrol said with confidence. "I can't believe the colonel would tell them anything. But still... we know they torture people. He may not have a choice."

"Do they know he's leading the resistance?" Sam asked. "Or did they just guess?"

Tyrol shook his head, pursing his lips. "Don't know. I hope it's the second, but if it's the first --"

"-means there's a traitor," Kara finished in disgust. "Gods, are humans really selling out to the Cylons?"

"Frakking NCP," Tyrol spat in disgust. "More than one of those. The ones I can be sure of -- like Barolay, she's doing surveillance to see if we can identify those frakkers. But they're careful so far."

"You need someone on the inside," Sam suggested. "None of my people, since the toasters must have their names, but somebody." He caught Tyrol's expression change, and his stomach knotted with apprehension. "What?"

"Cripkey's dead," Tyrol told him. "He shot two skinjobs, but the others caught him. Executed him in the street. I'm sorry."

"Frak." Sam turned away, shutting his eyes tightly to try to erase the image from his mind, and he inhaled deep breaths to try to breathe past the sudden lump in his chest. "Stupid frakker."

Cylons were whittling the team down, one by one. He'd tried to resign himself to that, but it still felt as if he'd been punched in the gut, again.

"I gotta get back," Tyrol said, nodding upward.

"Thanks for the warning, Chief," Kara told him. "Go. We'll be fine." After Tyrol had gone, she added, "As long as the colonel doesn't rat us out."

"He won't," Sam said, sure of that at least. He'd seen the amazement and pride in Tigh's face every time he looked at Kara. "He'll let them kill him first, Kara. But we should still be careful." All it would take was a slip of the tongue to confirm that Sam and Kara were on the surface, not on _Galactica_ after all, and the Cylons would start looking more seriously. And they would start with his friends.

But today he had one fewer to worry about. Frakking Cripkey getting caught. Frakking toasters butchering him. And now Sam was never going to see that reckless grin or watch him float a ball into a goal without touching the edge ever again. Frakking gods letting this happen.

Sam could feel Kara's gaze as he went straight to where he kept his small pile of stuff and grabbed the jump rope. Lacking space to run in, he'd turned to the rope to exercise and it helped ease the restlessness. Now he wanted it to ease his urge to go out there and kill all the frakking Cylons or drink himself unconscious.

He didn't bother to count as he made the rope go round and round, trying to burn out the anger and the grief.

* * *

  
"So, names," Sam said, ladling the soup out of the pot for both of them. There was an onion in there, and it smelled so good, he wanted to eat it all himself, but he divided the share, giving her a little more but not so much she'd complain about it.

"I have names I hate for various reasons," he said, "but nothing I especially like. What about you?"

Taking stale bread cubes, she put them in the soup to soften and thought about it. "Me neither. I don't want to name her after anyone alive. And definitely not my mother, so don't even suggest it."

He smiled. "I wouldn't. Nor any of my foster parents."

"What about your mother?" she suggested.

He shrugged. "She's just a name to me. Maybe something more … symbolic? Proserpina? Since we're waiting for her underground while it's winter up above?"

Kara wrinkled her nose. "Ugly name. And she was stupid, eating those seeds when she knew something would happen. Not to mention she was married to Death, that's ill-omened."

He ate about half of his bowl before suggesting, "Artemis? She's your favorite."

"No, not after Nora died in her temple."

Sam flinched guiltily, remembering the argument they'd had about that-- Kara and Galen had been right to keep the guns out.

But Kara didn't seem to be thinking about that. She glanced over at her newest painting by the wall. There were bright smears of color in vaguely horizontal stripes; Sam liked it, as it brightened up the place and was less angry than her usual work but he never commented on any paintings unless she asked.

"I painted that, thinking of the baby," Kara murmured. "It reminds me of a sunrise."

He regarded the painting, chewing his bread, and then nodded. "Sunrise. Okay, I see it. And?"

"Aurora," Kara suggested with that little quaver to her voice that always meant she was feeling something very deeply and trying to hold it down. "What about Aurora?"

His smile grew and he leaned over to pat Kara's rounded abdomen. "Aurora. I like it."

It was a name full of hope, of seeing the sun again, and he liked that part about it best of all.

* * *

 _tbc..._


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, no one can say the view isn't pretty good down here," Kara teased. He ignored her, used to her watching and taunting him as he worked out by now, and continued his push up set. The best part of his workouts was whenever she interrupted him to put her cool hands all over his warm skin, but today it seemed she was content to watch.

Flipping over, he started curls, until she interrupted him with a strange tone of voice. "Sam? I think... you better stop."

He leaned back and saw she was standing, looking down, with both hands on her belly. The loose legs of her pants were wet.

Then her face lifted and her eyes met his, bright with surprise, wonder and a little fear. "I think the baby's coming."

Jumping to his feet, he dithered, wondering what to do when all he could think of was Kara's words in his mind repeating ... _baby's coming, the baby's coming, the baby's coming..._

"Sam!" Kara's voice pierced the shock. "We need Cottle."

"But I don't want to leave you," he blurted, which wasn't what they had planned and wasn't what he was supposed to say, but he couldn't help it.

"You have to go get Cottle," she ordered. "The sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back. There's time if you go now."

Nodding, he inhaled a deep breath, trying to steady himself. She was right and he knew she was right. He put on a shirt, grabbed their hat and jammed it down over his head, put on his coat and a gun in his coat pocket. Then he hugged her tightly, and kissed her lips. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Climbing the ladder to the trap door, he tried to push it open. "Shit, the rug's on it." Determined, he shoved, and finally gained the leeway to open the trap door enough to wriggle his way under the rug and push it off him.

The tent seemed bright as he straightened, and he had to blink to focus his eyes. Then, hand on his gun, he moved the flap to peer out. Damn it. There were toasters in the road outside -- six Centurions were standing still, as if on guard at the intersection three tents down.

He let the flap fall, and bit his lip. Bright afternoon, no cover... couldn't go that way. He tried the back of the tent next, poking his head out beneath the canvas. Another Centurion at the opposite end, facing his way.

Heart pounding, he let the canvas down slowly, hoping not to attract its attention. Then he waited, listening for the mechanical sounds of a Centurion approaching, but the quiet held.

Damn, not that way. He'd have to go out through the tunnel.

Squirming beneath the filthy rug again, he backed his way to the trap door and felt blindly for the rungs with his feet.

"Sam? What is it?" Kara asked, as he closed the trap door and jumped the rest of the way down.

"Centurions. All over the frakking place. I've got to go out the river side and cut through that way. Or maybe find someone to take a message to Galen."

She bit her lip, cradling her stomach, but nodded firmly. "Okay."

Her brave face didn't fool him at all. He darted forward to frame her face in his hands so he could look into her eyes and promise, "Nothing will stop me from coming back, Kara. No force in the galaxy, not Cylons, not Death itself, will stop me from coming back to you and Aurora. I swear."

The force of his oath seemed to silence her for a moment, and she put her fingers on his lips. "Be safe." She kissed him again, and when he looked back at the passageway toward the river, she was watching him, with big eyes. "Go. Hurry." She waved him out.

He ran.

At the opening to outside, he climbed up the tumbled rock and mound of dirt of the collapse and cautiously peeked over the edge to look in all directions. He could hear the river to the north, and the wind rustled in the trees that lined this valley. But he heard and saw no people or Cylons.

Lifting himself out of the hole, he froze, feeling strange and dizzy as if the sky was too big and he was going to fall. The sun seemed hot and too bright, hurting his eyes, even though he knew it was a dim, mostly overcast day. His heart pounded and he glanced around like a startled rabbit, feeling terribly exposed.

He hurried to the cover of the nearest tree, putting his back to the trunk and trying to calm himself. You've been in a cave for four months; it's normal to be freaked out by the open air. Breathe and remember you need to help Kara.

This time the sky didn't seem so large as he checked his direction and headed back toward town. He heard a small group of people approaching, heading for the river, and he hid motionless in the shrubs, hard-won lessons from Caprica coming back in a flash.

They weren't Cylons but he didn't know any of them. Therefore he didn't trust any of them.

When they'd passed out of earshot, he continued on his way, paralleling the worn trail, and slowing as he approached the perimeter. Two shiny Centurions stood on guard, which meant a skinjob nearby.

He fingered his gun, but knew he couldn't take them all with a sidearm. Skirting the guard post, he crept through the shrubs, wishing he wasn't leaving such an obvious trail behind him. But he reached the line of latrines that formed the western perimeter, and turned up his collar and pulled down his hat low on his forehead, hoping the scruffy beard he was sporting would help him blend in.

The stench was nearly overpowering, but after suppressing a cough, he put it out of his mind. Kara was in labor and needed Cottle.

Then the gods took pity on him and he saw a familiar person leaving the latrine to the left. And even better, he knew the man was a member of the resistance. The younger man's real name escaped him, but Sam remembered his nickname. "Jammer!"

Jammer turned, and at first frowned in puzzlement, then his eyes widened in recognition. Sam took two hasty steps closer to him and cut him of. "Good to see you again, too. Let's go over here, out of the way, okay?" He steered Jammer underneath an awning next to some kind of cloth making place.

"You, you're alive!" Jammer blurted. "I thought you'd died. Some said you'd gone up to Galactica, but I thought you were dead."

"Been hiding," Sam explained shortly. "I hear the toasters have some kind of warrant out for me."

Jammer nodded, casting an overly nervous glance around. "Oh, yeah. With a big reward and everything."

Sam clasped Jammer's shoulder in a friendly grip. "That's why I need your help. James, isn't it? I know you're in the resistance. I need you to do something for me, right away. Go to Galen Tyrol and give him a message; tell him, it's happening right now."

"What is?"

"He'll know. Tell him I said to tell him it's happening right now. That's all. He'll know what I need him to do. But you have to be quick." He swallowed and his hand tightened. "People's lives depend on this, James. Please."

Jammer's eyes were serious and he nodded. "Of course."

"Go, quick, then. I've got to get back."

He hesitated and then turned and walked away, not running, but not slowly either. Sam waited until the other man was out of sight, then headed back toward the latrines and kept going, right out of town. When he'd gained some cover, he started to jog back.

* * *

He found Kara in only a tank top and a makeshift skirt, the pants in a heap on the floor. She was sitting in a chair awkwardly, holding her stomach and looking pale and miserable.

"Hey, I'm back. Got Jammer to run to Galen and tell him. Galen will know to bring the Doc. How are you doing?"

"Contractions started," she told him. "They suck. But they're not unbearable. And still not that close together."

"Good, glad to hear that." He gathered their towels and after folding them on the table, didn't know what else to do. He poured Kara a cup of water and, at her gesture, rubbed her shoulders. "I feel like I should be boiling water, except I've never understood what that's for. To give everyone a bath afterward?" he commented, and she chuckled.

"Sterilize things?" she guessed. "Frak if I know. Gods, I want this over with."

"Maybe if you walk? Isn't that supposed to help?" he suggested.

"And how do you know that?" Kara demanded. "You delivered lots of babies on the pyramid court?" But she managed to get to her feet with help, and she tucked an arm around his waist, and they started to slowly head for the far end of the cave.

"I used to watch TV," he answered, truthfully. She snorted.

"Not filling me with confidence, Sam."

"I fought toasters with tactics I got from TV," he reminded her, smiling, "and it worked okay. I'm still here."

"Your tactics sucked," she muttered, then stopped walking to gasp and hold her abdomen. "Oh, gods."

When it passed, he stayed next to her, being a support as she kept going, nearly shuffling her feet, but going. "My legs, my hips, this feels so frakking weird and it kind of hurts," she complained.

"Do you want to stop? We can stop," he reassured her. "I can carry you back if you want."

"No, no, not yet. It feels... okay, to walk. Good, even."

"But don't exhaust yourself either," he reminded her. "Marathon pace."

She shot him a baleful glare. "Shut up. Don't need advice from someone who learned it all from the television. Gods, I hope Cottle gets here soon."

He hoped so, too. But as the hours passed, and Kara's contractions grew stronger and closer together, he realized that even if Cottle came, he might be too late.

They were going to have to do this themselves.

* * *

"I hate you, I hate you," Kara swore, panting, but not releasing his hand.

"I know, I know," he smiled at her, "but you'll love me a lot pretty soon."

"Never!"

"Slow breaths," he advised. "Breathe."

"Frak you." Then she let out another groan, releasing it into panting breaths. "Sam, you're going to have to look. It all hurts, and I can't tell if it's right," she said, gripping his hand tightly before letting go.

Sam knelt on the ground and pushed the skirt back over her knees. He looked, and blurted, "Holy frak!"

"What?" she demanded anxiously raising herself up. "Is something wrong? Oh, gods, Sam, if there's something wrong --"

He swallowed and patted her knees with both hands. "Hush, it's okay, babe, I was just... surprised," he said quickly and wanted to laugh. 'Surprised' was really not the right word. Horrified maybe. How was that even possible? "You're looking good, as far as I can tell."

"Head down, is it head down?" she demanded.

"I uh -- I don't know, how can I-?"

"Damn it, Sam, you've put your tongue there before, you can touch it and find out!" she demanded impatiently, and then let out a short cry as the contraction rippled through her.

"Push, c'mon, that's it, Kara," he urged and then what he was looking at suddenly resolved itself into a new image as he realized what it was. Shock turned to utter amazement. "Oh, gods, Kara, I see it, I see the head," he exclaimed. "Keep going, baby, come on. Just a little more. You're doing great."

He had no idea what he was saying anymore, just talking, trying to encourage her, as he held her feet to give her something to push against.

When this started, he'd had trouble looking - there were some things even a husband was not really meant to see, not that way - but the instant he realized that was the baby's head, it became so miraculous that nothing else mattered.

"I have her, Kara, I have her, almost, you're so close, sweetheart, one more…"

She grit her teeth and grunted fiercely, bearing down, panting and shaking.

Then, so suddenly he almost missed catching it, the head was through and then the rest slid out, slick with blood and fluid and with the umbilical cord still attached.

"I have her! I have her!" he shouted excitedly, and he had the baby across his palms, tiny head and tiny warm body. "Oh gods, oh gods." His heart was pounding and he didn't feel like he could dare close his hands or move her or anything. "Oh dear gods, Kara, you did it!" And he laughed with the sheer joy of it.

Then he laughed again, noticing something.

"Kara, didn't you say Cottle said the baby was a girl? That's why we picked Aurora for her name?" he asked.

She glanced down at him, sweaty and exhausted, and still suffered a contraction while he watched, but she let it pass. "Yeah," she answered.

Lifting the baby in his hands, he turned it so Kara could see. "Well, I've become very intimate with girl parts in the last few hours," he said, grinning, "and this boy doesn't have them."

Her eyes widened in surprise at the very obvious proof, and she barked a tired laugh. "Good thing we didn't paint the nursery, huh?"

"Here, little boy," he murmured to the baby, kissing his forehead, "go to your mama." And he laid the baby on Kara's chest.

"Oh, gods, you are the ugliest thing," she murmured to him, chuckling, and touched him tentatively on the back and the tiny little fist.

"Kara, he's beautiful, and so are you." He leaned down and she raised her face to him for a kiss and then they looked at their son.

She touched his head and then took the washcloth that Sam handed her and began to wipe him off gently. His head moved at the touch on his cheek and his eyes blinked.

Her voice was shaking. "He's… a miracle, Sam."

"He is," he agreed whispering, and neither of them could take their eyes away. "You did it, Kara. You did it. Thank you."

They both rested in reverent silence, while Kara held the baby against her, and then he started to cry with a thin wail.

"What do I do?" she asked in sudden panic. "What's wrong? Is he cold? He should have a blanket."

He gave her a small blanket to put around him, but when that didn't seem to help, she looked up at him, distressed. "He won't stop. What if something's wrong?"

He smiled reassuringly. "Babe, he's a boy. What do all boys like?"

"Boobs." She rolled her eyes but pushed up her sweaty tank top to bare one breast. "Okay. Let's try that. Eat, nameless Thrace Anders child with the monkey face."

He watched as she maneuvered the baby carefully into position, struggling with knowing which way to turn him and how he was still slippery. The cord was in the way, too, and Sam swallowed.

"I think I'm supposed to cut the cord," he offered and held out a piece of string. "Tie it off in the middle?"

She was more relaxed as the baby quieted. "Yeah, I think that's fine. Doc should come soon."

He knotted the string tightly and then, with trembling fingers, took his knife and cut the slippery thin cord. There was some blood, but not as much as he expected. And with that, their son was completely a separate person.

He offered Kara some water, wiped her down with a damp towels, and sat beside her. His eyes burned with wet heat as he watched their tiny miracle of a brand new life.

* * *

Sam held the baby in the crook of his arm, the little behind resting in one palm. Even after two weeks, he still didn't quite believe the baby was real. Though that might've been the interrupted sleep making everything a little surreal. The baby slept a lot, but woke often, making no distinction between day and night. Kara and Sam tried to keep that division, by turning down the lamps and standing in the sunlight that came in the collapsed end of the tunnel, but still, with a baby who didn't care, it all began to blur.

He also didn't have a name yet, though Sam wasn't sure whether to blame tiredness for their inability to agree, or bad ideas, but she hated all his suggestions and he hated all of hers, and neither of them particularly liked any of them.

Yet named or not, Sam found himself that much more determined to make sure that Monkey Face grew up in freedom, not hiding in a hole in the ground.

On that day they received their first inkling that it was possible. Sam stared at the message on the wireless, still amazed all these hours later. He'd had his doubts, but there it was: Have hope. We are coming.

That had been followed by Tigh and Tyrol and Barolay joining him and Kara below to make plans. _Galactica_ wanted a meeting site, and so, after discussion, they'd all settled on Breeder's Canyon. It was far enough from the settlement to not be within the Cylon usual patrol patterns, sheltered by thick foliage, and had a water source just in case.

Jean couldn't keep her eyes off the baby - her gaze kept coming back to him and a smile would play on her lips before she remembered they were supposed to be seriously planning an operation.

"You'll take your team, Barolay," Tigh instructed, "to meet the _Galactica_ team and bring them in. We'll find out what the old man wants as soon as they're safe down here. In the meantime," he turned to face Tyrol, "you and I will tell Roslin and we're going to get this camp ready. Whatever the plan is, it's gonna be fast and hard. There's no other way."

"And us?" Kara asked.

"Monitor the wireless," he ordered. "And get ready to go, too. Everybody leaves this rock, Starbuck. We're all going, or none. And if we happen to take the frakkers out as we go, then I'm good with that."

* * *

There was a strange sound in the tunnel, and he held up a hand to stop Kara in mid-word. They both listened and her alarmed glance met his, as they recognized it.

Centurions.

There were Centurions in the tunnels.

She reached over and turned down the lantern, and they both stood up. Monkey Face was in his sling on her chest; and she picked up a sidearm, shoving two extra clips into her pocket.

Sam grabbed two grenades from the table in his coat pocket, as he followed Kara to the ladder.

She only got two steps up when they heard a sound of heavy footsteps on the trap door, and Cally's voice yelling but muffled, "No, get away from us, I don't know, I swear I don't know!" Then there was scuffling and screaming.

Sam plucked Kara off the ladder and pushed her toward the other end of the tunnels. They were going to have to hide or take out the Centurions, if they could. Sam pulled his gun from his holster and took off the safety.

They ran into the shadows and crouched behind the rock outcropping, just as a Centurion entered. The ceiling was too low for it, causing it to have to bend at the waist to avoid the low-hanging rocks, but it was still alertly scanning the area. Another entered behind it, then another until there were four altogether. Four was going to be a problem when they had only sidearms. There was a rifle on the table, but it seemed impossibly far away.

"Centurions, halt," came a command and the Centurions stopped. A familiar smug voice filled the cavern. "Samuel. I know you're in here. You and your wife and _your baby_." Cavil's voice filled with venom at that word, so hateful Kara recoiled and lifted her gun. "Happy families are not allowed, Sam. You don't deserve it. So let me tell you what's going to happen."

Sam's finger tightened on the trigger, hoping Cavil came into the light so he could blow the frakker away. But he stayed out of sight, his voice carrying through the quiet.

"If you surrender, I'll let Starbuck live. My brother Two wants to, I don't know, keep her as a pet or something, but she'll be alive. The kid - well, I'll stash it somewhere. But if you don't surrender, I kill them both in front of you first."

"Frak you!" Kara shouted.

Sam's hand trembled on the gun, tempted by the offer. Get Kara and his son out of this rat trap. Alive, they could be free someday. Dead, they were just dead.

Kara grabbed his arm with her free hand, fingers like claws digging painfully into his skin. "No. He's going to kill you."

Cavil called out, "I'm waiting. Or are you thinking of some suicidal last stand? It won't gain you anything but everyone you love dead."

Kara rooted in Sam's coat pocket and he wondered blankly what the hell she was doing. Then she took out a grenade. He nodded grimly, thinking she meant to throw it at the Centurions and try to rush them.

She shook her head and pointed at the crack in the floor that they used as their latrine. His eyes widened at her idea and he felt sick. But... it was an idea.

It was a risky as hell idea. But since Cavil hadn't once promised him his own life, Sam knew he wasn't getting out of this cavern alive any other way.

But Kara and the baby... In agony, he stared at her, unwilling to do it, if he had a way to save them that wouldn't possibly kill them with the blast, the rocks, the fall, the water...

She mouthed, "Do it." She gave him the grenade and covered Monkey Face's head with her hands.

He pulled the pins on both his grenades and mouthed at her, "I love you."

And somehow, she found the strength to smile at him with confidence, and her hair seemed to be catching the light with a soft radiance. She murmured the words, "I love you."

With that chasing away his doubt, strengthening his heart, he threw the grenades.

The arc was perfect and he didn't have to watch them fall to know one would land exactly in the crack and the other just next to it. He flung himself on top of Kara, covering her with his body, as the two grenades exploded.

The concussion blew over them, like a clap of thunder right in his ear and heat burned along his back. The floor heaved beneath them, and he clutched Kara desperately as everything shook.

He had time for a thought that maybe he should've surrendered because they were all going to die after all, when the floor dropped out from under him.

He let out a yell, falling, and realized he'd lost his grip on Kara when his hands closed on empty air.

His feet hit the water with a splash, and the water closed over his head and into his mouth. He kicked and paddled frantically, trying to find the top again, but the water tumbled and yanked at him. It was pitch black with no way to tell what was up or down or where the air was, until he hit the bottom and kicked upward.

His head broke the surface and he sucked in a breath, before the water tumbled him again.

Something slammed into his side. The pain was instant and blinding. Everything seemed to stop, overwhelmed, and he sank into the water, drifting.

 _Kara... the baby..._ his thoughts seemed sluggish under the water. _Kara... our son..._

The water tossed him around again, until he started to see lights in his eyes from lack of air.

 _Find Kara and Monkey Face. You can't die; you did all this so you wouldn't die._

His knees dragged on the bottom and he kicked, strongly, trying to get to the surface. He tried to swim, but his left arm was a useless explosion of agony. But he kicked and fought, refusing to give up. His head broke the surface and he sucked air, seeing real stars in a black sky, before the water sucked him down.

Coughing woke him up, seizing his lungs, and he spewed out salty, metallic water, only realizing he was lying on wet ground after he'd rid his lungs of the water. He tried to lift himself up, letting out a half-cry as he fell again, agony shooting up his arm. He nearly vomited and had to rest a moment until it all settled into a nauseating throb.

Then more carefully, he tried again to sit up and looked around. He'd managed to drag himself onto shore of the larger main river, far enough downstream from town he didn't recognize it. He'd gotten caught on a sandy beach of sorts, in a bend of the river where a bunch of stiff, thick reeds grew. Cedar-like trees lined the river, but here they grew stunted and with odd-shaped leaves, where the water was contaminated by sulfur and the underground salts.

Cautiously, he got to his feet. He was soaking wet and cold in the night breeze. Everything ached from getting bashed around in the water, but his shoulder was worse. It hurt like hell when he tried to move it, and he was sure it was dislocated. He didn't know how to put it back, and a hesitant attempt made him nearly pass out. He'd have to leave it.

It wasn't important anyway. He wasn't too badly hurt, and he had to find Kara and the baby.

The river was wide here, and the opposite bank was far enough that he could barely see it in the light from the two small moons.

But he saw not a sign of Kara at all, not across the water and not on his side of the shore.

The scream bubbled up, bursting out frantically, "KARA!" Then horrified by how loud it had been, he clapped his hand over his mouth. Sound would carry. But he heard nothing in response except the rumbling of the water.

He closed his eyes and prayed to the Lords of Kobol: _Please save them. I won't live when they're gone; I can't. Don't take them from me, please.... Oh, gods, please let them be alive..._

He called more softly, "Kara? Can you hear me? Are you close by?"

No answer.

He searched downstream along the shore, terrified if he stopped he'd miss her by only a few steps. Every step jarred his arm, and the cold ate at him, until he was dragging his feet and had to lean on the trunk of one of the cedars, shivering violently. Its fragrance was pleasant and restorative, and he knew he had to keep moving or freeze to death in the chill.

Reluctantly, he turned and started back upriver slowly, searching the ground he'd already looked at, hoping he'd just missed her... hopefully they hadn't been swept all the way down to where the river joined the ocean or they were lost…

He shivered more violently and rubbed at his face with his good hand. So frakking cold. But he had to find her. And not get killed by Cylons.

As he trudged back toward the colony, it settled with perfect, simple clarity in his mind: _Find Kara. Don't die._

Once he caught himself standing still, staring blankly at a tree in his path as if unable to formulate a plan to go around. _Stay with it, Anders. Focus. Find Kara and the baby. Stay alive._

The night lasted forever. He searched the riverbank until he forgot what he was looking for, and only the tug of his dog tags reminded him.

His mind conjured up nightmarish images that splintered apart, some obviously seeking warmth even if it was false, but others strange fragments he almost understood before they slipped away.

Still he stumbled on, exhausted, and didn't realize the sky was lightening until he glanced up at the sound of a squadron of Raiders in the sky and noticed the stars had faded into the indigo and green of first light.

Then a sound seemed to pierce through his mind like a bullet -- a soft thin wail, soon ended, but he knew that sound. He knew it.

Energy surged and he trotted toward the sound, up a little hill, tearing through leaves. The baby, that had to be the baby.

He burst through the dry shrubs to face Kara, who had a gun in one hand pointed straight at him, even while she held the baby to her breast with her other.

They stared at each other, stunned. She was sitting with her back to a boulder, next to a small fire she'd built under the shelter of an overhanging rock ledge. "You made a fire," he said, and knew it was a stupid thing to say, but he couldn't seem to find any other words.

She put the gun down. "Thank the gods you're alive." Patting the ground next to her, she said, "Come here. Sit. You look like crap."

He collapsed to the ground next to her, and put his good arm around her shoulders to pull her close, kissing her cheek and the baby's head. They were warm and smelled vaguely sulfurous from the water, but also of that scent that was only new baby. "I thought you were dead," he whispered. "I was so afraid I'd lost you."

Her free hand stroked the top of his thigh. "Nope. And we got away. We need to get you warmed up."

The warmth was already making him light-headed. The light of the fire seemed to smear in his vision and his head got too heavy to lift.

"Sam, what's wrong with your arm?" Kara asked worriedly.

"Dislocated, I think. Big frakking rock. Don't... worry about it. Can't feel it anyway," he mumbled, wanting nothing more but burrow into her and sleep for days.

But instead of that reassuring her, she turned, dislodging him, and looked alarmed at his face. "You can't feel it? Sam, that's really bad. We need to put it back."

She was forcing him to be alert, and it was mean. He wanted to sleep - gods, he'd found them, and now he could finally sleep... But she poked him roughly. "No, you don't, no passing out on me. You have to get warm and then we'll fix your arm."

"Do you know how?" he asked, rubbing his eyes, trying to wake up.

"I saw it on TV," she quipped and laughed at his expression. "Serves you right."

"Not funny." Especially since, as he warmed up, his shoulder was beginning to hurt again and his fingers were tingling unpleasantly. He clenched his hand trying to make it stop. In some effort at distraction, he asked, "How did you make a fire?"

"I opened the shells," she explained with a nod at a clip dismantled on the ground. "They were damp anyway, but I found enough dry powder to spark. All done, monkey face?" She lifted the baby off and Sam had a quick glimpse of his face, all satisfied and sleepy. She settled him back into the sling and got up on her knees to look at Sam in the rising light. "You had a rougher night than us, I think."

"I was looking for you downriver, I thought you might have drowned, or he'd drowned. I was afraid you'd been swept all the way down out to sea. So I walked. All night. Trying to find you."

"Soaking wet and freezing and hurt." Her hand touched his cheek. "We're fine," she reassured him. "When I hauled us out of the water, he was blue with the cold, but I made a fire right away, so we're fine. Better than you. Let's get your coat off and let me see your shoulder."

He was warmer without his wet coat, from the fire and its heat radiating back from the stone. Though he nearly bit through his lip when Kara eased the coat off his left arm, and he slammed his head back against the rock involuntarily, biting back a cry. "Frak."

Her hand hovered over his shoulder. "I don't think I should try," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, but it's swollen, and I don't want to cause more damage. But I'll rip off the end of the baby sling, and you can use that. We'll have to find our way to Cottle."

He nodded. "I don't think we should stay here, too long. Not enough cover, and we need food."

She smiled at him ruefully. "Feels like Caprica all over again, doesn't it?"

"Except this time I have two of you I can't lose," he murmured, and laid a hand on the small lump sleeping in the cloth at her chest.

The sun rose at last, sending a wave of light and warmth across the valley, and he closed his eyes to take a few minutes rest.

* * *

Four hours later, wrist and elbow in a sling against his body, Sam trailed after Kara. She'd given him her sidearm to carry, and he held it in his right hand. It wasn't his preferred gun hand, but he could fire it with some accuracy, though he was doubtful the clip was dry enough to fire at all. It still made him feel more secure.

Squadrons of Raiders were out in force, probably searching for them, but he and Kara stayed in the cover of the trees and so far went unseen as they headed back to town.

"You know what's weird to me," Kara began, as they paused for a drink from the river. The water still tasted disgusting, downstream from where their underground river joined it, but they weren't in a position to be very picky. "That Cavil - what the hell did you do to him? He hates your guts."

He shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe he's mad that the one with me on Caprica didn't come back."

"Aw, think I'm going to cry for him," she mocked then sniffed and made a face. "Guess who just made a mess?" Unwinding the baby, she looked tempted to hand the bundle to him, then saw his injury. "Stand guard."

While she went to rinse the baby and dirty cloth in the river, he stood on the low ridge above the bank, keeping an eye out for both humans and toasters. They were approaching town and some of the farms, but he turned the opposite way to search for Raiders as well.

Something was in the sky, but as he frowned at it, it swooped low over the river and barely cleared the ridge to head into the neighboring canyon. It didn't have the round, flat silhouette of a Raider.

He watched another moment more, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks, but it didn't return. "Kara, that wasn't a Raider. That was a Raptor."

"What?" She hurried up the slope to him, a naked baby in one arm, as she shaded her eyes to look in the direction. "That's the one from the Fleet, gotta be. The Old Man's back."

Their eyes met, both excited but wary. He said, "They went to Breeder's Canyon. Should we meet them?"

He knew the same thoughts were in her head as were in his, as they weighed the decision: they knew where the resistance was meeting the group from the Raptor, they'd have help; even the Raptor itself would give them shelter, rations, and a way off planet if the rescue was going to happen very soon. But on the other hand, it wasn't a short walk, and if the Raptor and resistance were gone by the time Kara and Sam reached it, they'd be even farther from the town with no food.

She frowned at him with an objection he hadn't considered, "We need to get you to the doc."

Which he couldn't argue with, since his shoulder was a mass of nauseating pain, even with the sling, but it wasn't going to kill him and he could still walk. "Canyon's not packed with toasters. And the Raptor should have morpha, and maybe even a medic with the team."

"All right, let's roll the hard six," Kara decided.

They took last drinks, knowing there'd be little water to cross the high ridge until they reached the river at the bottom of Breeder's Canyon, and started off. He was soon sorry he'd seen the frakking Raptor at all, because climbing the ridge was turning into a marathon, every footstep shooting sharp twinges through him, and he felt as if he could hardly catch his breath.

Kara called a halt when the baby stirred, restless and hungry. They sat under a tree, and though he wanted to protest stopping, he was too grateful for the rest. "Hanging in there?" she asked Sam.

There was no point in complaining, so he licked dry lips and answered, "Hanging." Then, hoping for distraction, he watched the baby nurse and said, "We need a name for Monkey Face that's not 'monkey face'."

She rubbed the fuzz on the top of the baby's head. "But he is a little monkey face."

"Yes, but he'll murder us in our sleep later."

"Point. But I don't know. Aurora came easy, but with him..." she glanced down. "I thought of Helios, but Karl will think we named the baby after him and be insufferable."

"Hyperion?" he asked. "That's related. But it seems kind of heavy for Monkey Face."

She snickered. "No. That's a name for a ship, not a person." Then she grew somber again. "We have until the dedication at least. To come up with something."

He hesitated, then suggested, "What about Daniel?"

"Daniel?" she repeated, but as if tasting it, thoughtfully. "Why Daniel?"

"I don't know, just an idea," he answered. It had come to him during the long night, and though he was sure he didn't know anyone with that name, there was something about it he liked.

Kara twisted her neck to look at the baby's face and regard it for a long moment. "Daniel Thrace Anders," she said then gave a little nod of approval. "Yeah, I like it. It's a strong name. Feels right." She nuzzled his downy hair. "Daniel. But you'll always be my little monkey face."

Chuckling hurt, but it felt good, too.

At the top of the ridge, they stayed in the trees and watched the canyon, trying to spot where the Raptor had landed. But it was hidden too well. Sam didn't say it, but he was thinking they were screwed if the Raptor had landed another ridge over. Just because the team was supposed to meet in Breeder's Canyon, didn't mean the Raptor had landed there.

Then Kara's fingers tightened on his arm and then she pointed. "Metal," she hissed, pointing toward the wide but shallow river in this canyon that ran down from the mountains.

He followed her finger and saw it too, the very distinctive gleam of sunlight on Centurion chrome. They could see it from up here, but the toasters would be invisible in the shrubs and low trees in the valley. "It's an ambush."

Her eyes narrowed at the scene and her voice was a low, angry hiss. "There's a frakking traitor, Sam, has to be. Someone ratted us out, and the landing party, too. C'mon, we have to warn them."

She headed down the slope, angled away from the Centurions. He had no idea how she knew where to go, but she didn't hesitate, so he followed her. Once he lost his footing on wet leaves, and grabbing a tree branch with both hands to keep from falling wrenched a loud gasp of pain from him. They stopped, listening for anyone who might have heard and was coming to find them, but there was no movement.

He caught his breath, and when Kara lifted an eyebrow in question at him, he nodded he was ready to go on.

It was eerie how quiet the valley was. He and Kara were the only sounds as they headed toward the water. They were the only ones moving, but they weren't the only ones there. Besides the Cylons, he could feel there were others there, somewhere.

Kara abruptly stopped and knelt behind a fallen log, and he joined her, sidearm up and ready, listening intently.

Then, there was a soft call ahead of them: "Go Panthers."

And a response came from their left, "C-Bucs Rule." And he knew that voice, it was Barolay's.

Sam was about to shout a warning, but Kara's hand came down tight over his arm. Shaking her head, she gestured for them to go toward the Galactica party.

They crept closer, and at something Sam didn't notice, Kara stopped and stared intently. "C-Bucs Rule," she called softly. "Don't frakking shoot us."

Then a familiar voice which he couldn't quite identify answered, "Likewise."

Barolay came through the bushes on the left, followed by Hillard, both with weapons ready. She saw him first. "Sam? Thank the gods. We thought you all might've been killed last night."

"Not for lack of trying," he answered, then whispered urgently to them, "There are chromejobs west, in ambush."

She whirled to point her weapon behind them, but movement ahead kept Sam's attention. He saw a black haired Cylon head first and very nearly put a bullet in it, but jerked the gun up when marines appeared beside her and he realized she was Sharon Agathon.

She had a weapon, too, but already had it pointed elsewhere. Her glance rested on him and his injured shoulder with a frown of concern, but that faded quickly when she turned her eyes to Kara. At first she smiled a brief greeting, which faltered when she saw the bundle at Kara's chest, but the smile then returned, stronger than before.

She beckoned them closer, and asked in a low voice, "Did I hear?"

Kara answered, "Centurions in the west. At least six, possibly more."

"How did they know?" Barolay hissed, angry. "We kept it secret."

"Like our tunnel was secret? Someone betrayed us," Kara snarled. "We need to find who it is. And shoot them."

"We need to take the Centurions, quickly," Sharon suggested. "And get into town. Tomorrow's the day. Gunny, can we take a six-pack of Centurions at a distance?"

Gunny Mathias nodded sharply. "Yes, lieutenant. If I have exact range we can drop mortars."

"One hundred eighty meters west-south-west," Kara told her. "They're ambushing the river crossing." Then she blinked. "'Lieutenant'?"

"Sworn yesterday," Sharon answered with evident pride and fished out a pair of dog tags, which was the first time Sam noticed she was wearing a flight suit.

"Frakkers," Barolay swore, "we went right past them."

"Set it up," Sharon ordered Mathias, who nodded and pushed her way back into the bushes, her men disappearing with her. Then Sharon's gaze fell again on the baby and her expression turned intent and worried. "We'll handle this," Sharon announced abruptly. "Barolay can get us into camp, and our mortar attack will give you some cover. The Raptor's twenty meters that way," she pointed. "Take it and your family, Kara, retrace the coordinates, and get the hell out of here."

"No, I'm not running away," Kara declared, glaring at her as if offended by the mere idea.

"Kara, you have to go. Sam's hurt." Sharon glanced at Sam, and back to the baby, and her eyes held an infinite dark pain, "And the child -- You need to make sure he's safe."

"It's not the same--"

"Yes, it is!" Sharon exclaimed urgently. "It's exactly the same, Kara. Believe me. I don't understand it, I don't know why I feel it so strongly, but seeing him, I know. He's … important. He has to live. He's... he can change everything."

Kara froze and her eyes went from the baby and to Sam. He felt his own stomach turn over and he didn't want to believe Sharon; he wanted to believe Daniel was an ordinary child, that he didn't have some sort of mystical destiny or anything like that, especially when he knew Hera hadn't survived hers, but...

Was it possible Cylons knew these things? He remembered early days on Caprica, when they'd captured a Two pretending to be Colonial Fleet. He hadn't bothered to deny what he was when accused, but he'd looked straight at Sam and claimed he saw … more. Some kind of destiny. It had given Sam chills, how certain he had been. Maybe this was what the toaster had seen somehow.

After a brief hesitation, Kara snorted, trying to be skeptical. "He's a baby. Like any other. I'm not running from this fight."

Sam understood her quandary -- he also wanted to get back in the fight, but he knew he couldn't with his arm a mess. "Give him to me; we'll wait here," he offered. "You go help."

She seemed tempted for a moment. But she glanced down at the small form at her chest and then across to him, noting his injured shoulder, and she forced a laugh. "Shit, I can't do that, can I? You'd both get killed. Let's go."

To hide his relief at her decision, Sam turned his head to Barolay and Hillard. "Both of you better frakking make it or I'm going to be pissed."

Jean answered, "Our ride's coming tomorrow. See you then."

When the pain in his shoulder made him too dizzy to stand up, Sharon's strong hand caught his and pulled him to his feet. "Hurry. We'll cover for you."

Following after Kara, he hoped this was the right thing to do. Finding _Galactica_ on the eve of its possibly suicidal run back to New Caprica didn't seem especially smart or safe either, but there was no denying he'd give a lot just to find morpha someplace.

They found two marines guarding the Raptor. It had been set down carefully in a stand of tall trees with broad leaves, and Sam saw no way out but straight up. "Move," Kara ordered the marines. "We're going. And I'm jumping out as low as I can, so make tracks."

Their eyes widened and they ran to join their fellows.

Kara hurried up the wing and Sam followed more slowly, finally reaching the hatch, panting.

"Shut the hatch," she called from the front, where she'd thrown herself into the pilot's seat. "And strap in. We're getting the hell off this rock."

He slammed the lever to close the hatch and made his way to the copilot's seat, fumbling at the harness as she started flipping switches and dials, to wake up the small ship. The engines started with a roar and a deep thrumming in his seat that made his arm vibrate. He gritted his teeth, shutting his eyes tightly, while trying to hold his arm in its makeshift sling more still.

"Here we go," she said. The vibration was worse when the ship built up its power and then launched straight upward.

Kara counted to herself, "Five, four, three, two, one, jump."

He opened his eyes in time to see the trees below them, but they hadn't risen high above the ridgeline, when the distortion of jump stretched and bent everything outside the cockpit window.

This time he held his stomach, trying desperately not to vomit. "Oh, gods."

Then the outside settled into the depths of space, of distant stars and more distant galaxies, but he could barely look at it, taking deliberate breaths and swallowing to settle his stomach. "Three more jumps," she told him. "Sorry. But at least we're away from New Caprica. Now, while we wait for the engines to recharge, I'm going to find some water and food and a medical kit for some morpha, since you look like you're gonna faint on me."

He looked at Kara and Daniel as she unbuckled her harness and stood. The relief that hit when he realized they were safe was an overwhelming wave that nearly made him pass out.

They were all safe. And they were almost home.

* * *

On _Galactica_ the Admiral and Helo were waiting for them, both looking concerned about the unplanned return.

Kara stood in the hatch and called down, "Sir, permission to come aboard?"

"Granted, Starbuck," he said, with a warm smile at the sight of the baby.

"Thank you. Helo, I need help getting Sam down, he's hurt."

Sam pushed himself up to his feet, woozy with the morpha dose that didn't seem to be helping much, but he protested, "I can do it."

He didn't think he'd shut his eyes, but suddenly Helo was there, as if he'd teleported himself to Sam's side, and putting an arm around Sam's back to support him. "Whoa there, this way. You look like hell," he told Sam. "What happened?" he asked, helping Sam down to the deck. "And how's Sharon and the team?"

"They're okay," Kara said, "She's the one that made us leave. I figure she's there to get the launch keys. Sir, what's the plan and how can I help?"

"Helo, get Anders to Sickbay; see what Ishay can do. Starbuck, with me. We can find a slot for you in your Viper, or if you'd rather stay on board, you can take Tactical. We're going to provide cover for the ships as they leave the surface."

Sam could see the desire in her eyes, the need to strike back at the frakkers for all they did to humans, and to him and her most of all, by forcing them to hide in a cave for months and nearly getting them killed so many times.

So when she looked in his direction, uncertain, he nodded. "Once my arm's fixed, I can take Daniel. You go."

"Then, I'll be in a Viper, sir. I can do the most good there."

* * *

While Kara suited up, he held the baby in his good arm, and when she glanced at him, he said, "Kick some Cylon ass for us."

"I will." She fastened the collar. Pressing her lips first to the small head, she leaned into Sam, raising her mouth to his. "Be back as soon as I can."

"Holding you to that," he said and, in a moment's burst of nostalgia took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. Putting his arm back properly in the socket had eased the pain, but it was still sore, especially when he moved it. But the ache was worth it when she flashed a grin, surprised by the gesture.

She tapped her dog tag hanging at his chest. "I promise." Then she hurried to the hatch that led to the deck and her Viper, to do what she did best.

Sam thought he should be anxious, since this wasn't exactly a safe operation for anyone, but all he felt was confident. Kara would return, and bring the people of New Caprica with her.

He remembered Sharon's words, and with a smile, he put a gentle kiss on Daniel's soft hair.

"Your mom will be back; she promised. And you know what? She keeps her promises. But today, everything changes, little one. Today, we're going to start winning."

 

* * *

  
 _the end._


End file.
